


Drug & Candy

by cookiedoughfriend



Category: All Time Low (Band), Palaye Royale (Band), Panic! at the Disco, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: 1920s, Baltimore, Drama, M/M, Roaring Twenties, Romance, magician, millionarie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-04-20 16:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiedoughfriend/pseuds/cookiedoughfriend
Summary: Gleaming dark orbs to light hearts in flames,The lust of fame and money melt away of one.And the walls burn around the other.Far from home on land across the sea,And the other rules over it with dollars signs and enchantment.For it was a time of celebration every day,Yet, a time of that forbidden love.Sweet Alex and wild Jack.For the money could not buy the loveOf their Drugs & Candy.(Also on wattpad)





	1. Chapter One

The loud horn of the passenger steamship could be heard from the bustling harbor of Baltimore. The naval blue officials on its docks were ready for it to park, allowing the people on the boat to venture on there own into the city. Other people, with their travel luggages and tickets, are told to stay back by the officials so the travelers on the boat may enter the harbor.

Many people on the vessel were waiting to finally get back on land. Some passengers will return to their homes in or outside of Baltimore, being greeted by friends and family. Some are planning to stay on the ship, planning to go it's next stop in Manhattan. Some were new wanderers to the different place far from their home. Like one passenger. With two small black leather suitcases, he boarded the boat from Southampton, England to Baltimore, Maryland, saying goodbye from his home country and family for a while. After few chilling nights at sea, he was thankful that there were no storms that could have made rough sailing across the ocean. For he was traveling alone.

His hands grip the steel white edge of the boat of the bottom deck as he gazes out into the ocean, instead of looking at the land like everyone else was on the other side. His brown orbs under his thick black eyebrows close slowly each time being greeted with the waves underneath the light blue sky over its horizon anew each time. His rosy pink lips in a soft smile that connect his thin top lip and thicker bottom lip subconsciously. Around them were small hairs barely growing that outline under the nose and mouth to the sides that reach his hair. The chestnut mess on his head was parted to the left, covering a little bit of his eyebrow, while the other side has short hair moving downward toward the same direction. His attire was a plain crisp white button up shirt with the sleeves pull up to his elbows. Black suspenders clipped to black trousers that are tight on his thighs but lose to the knees and down. His black shoes out wore their shine from many nights ago, but that didn't bother him much. His clothes weren't expensive nor were cheap, just something he threw on the morning he left his home.

As he watches a seabird flies overhead the ocean a few feet away and tries to listen to the ocean rather than the mindless chatting of people, he thinks back to when his mother and step-brother reacted when he announced he was heading to America.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Oh dear lord, Alex!" His mother exclaims, her one hand over her breast in shock and holding a folding fan in the other due to the hot day under the summer sun. In the penthouse, over the bustling city of London, the silk-like white shining curtains of the windows flutter out due to the metals fan blowing them. The room is wallpapered in ruby red with the small white designs running up its walls that lead to plaster white ceiling above the mahogany waxed wood of the flooring. The room decor in red, brown and gold to appear as if a royal lived here, despite that no royalty lived here.

"Mother, it's alright. It's only for a few months." Alex said, trying to calm down his mother.

"No, but my poppet is going to leave me all alone." She whined, shedding an inky tear after it touched her extended eyelashes. The women use so many products as gifts of from her fancy man that she was unable to have with her son's father. Alex just rolled his eyes at his mother's dramatic nature.

"Excuse me," A voice boomed from the doorway of the kitchen. Alex moved his gaze away from his mother to his older step-brother.

"What about me, Mother?" He questioned, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. His eyebrow rose over his bright brown eyes. His brown hair was perfectly combed whilst there wasn't any along his chin. Under the blue suit and brown shiny shoes, was his built figure underneath that you could tell by his strong shoulders.

"You know I love you equally too, Zack." Alex moves his head away and rolled his eyes, again. Zack was the more successful of the two. His father owns a one of the largest radio broadcasting company in England and parts of Scotland as the chairman. Zack is second in command and destined to take it over when his father retires at 60, which is not too far away.

Truth be told, Alex doesn't like his stepfather. His mother right after his father's death announced that they were to be wed two months later as if she never knew his father. Alex, being the Hamlet in the situation, guessed that she was unfaithful due to the one time she had fancy clear white pearls upon her collar bones when she went to pick up groceries whilst his father was at work. He saw nothing wrong about his father. His father was an honest and careful man, working so hard in the mill just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He appreciated that whenever his father came home tired and cranky from working in the mill all day. On those day, it showed that he worked remarkably hard. 

However, he doesn't hate Zack. Zack was only the product of his father and did nothing wrong. He treats Alex like a little brother, always having his back. He wasn't snobbish and petty as his father.

"But I going to miss my previous Alex." She cooed.

"Alright mother, stop gushing over him," Zack alleges, then checks his silver wrist watch to read. Even if there was a perfectly good clock on the wall, he used his watch just to show off.

"Jordan!" He called for their butler, gazing up from his watch. Soon enough, the butler comes rushing into the living with his black waistcoat on his thim body, white gloves clean of dust, and bright blue eyes wide with attention.

"Grab my keys," Zack said. Jordan mumbles a 'yes sir' before strolling out of the room.

"Dear brother, are you still up for lunch?" The step-brother asked. He and Alex agreed to meet for lunch the other day, somewhere they could chat away from their mother's nosy ears.

Alex nods just as Jordan practically ran into the room with jingling bronze keys in his white glove. Zack grabs the keys and thanked the butler before he attended to the needs of the old woman's desire for more sparkling wine.

"Come along now, brother." Zack declared, headed towards the door to the hallway. Alex watches then turns to his mother, who was mindless flirting with the butler. Thankful, Alex knew that the underpaid worker could not to fall into the trap she would often set up, similar to the last few butlers. The butler has luckily has been here a year and is the lover to their maid. Alex decided that he just let her play and left without a simple goodbye because what is the point when he is coming back to pack before he leaving in a week. So he left the room to the hallway, meeting his step-brother who is holding the front door knob.

Zack opens the door to the quiet hallway space that led to the ebony colored gate of the elevator adjacent to the wall. Unlike apartments window wide open, the windows were closed and clean, letting in the sun's ray with little dust particles flying around it. The wallpaper a cooling blue with dulling grey carpet that made the room has a calm effect that the elevator made frightening with the slams and shifting of crusty gears in need of oil. Two white doors parallel to each other, each closed that lead to other lunatic apartments. Next to the elevator on the left, was an elegant staircase that leads to the penthouse of the owner of the apartment building that looks like it has not been used due to the shine of wax still on the rail. On the other side was another staircase leading downstairs. The wax no longer shines due to the neighbor uses ten flights of stairs due to them believing they will get trapped between floors in the elevator. A top the gateway door in front of the gap made from the elevator, was an object, almost like the half of a clock. The numbers in bronze going around it near the outside wooden edge, while an arrow with loops of design, moves slowly to the right as the numbers under it count higher.

Zach walks toward the elevator whilst Alex closes the door leading into the hot humid room. The elder goes to the gate and stands in front of a metal box. The box has two buttons parallel in a vertical line and a small light on the top. One of the top, with black ink cursive letters that spells 'up' above it, shines black. The bottom one, with ink cursive letters spelling 'down' under it, shines whites. The man presses the white button for a moment until the light turns on, indicating that the elevator will come in a moment. He removed his hand and place both of them, note that the car keys are in his other hand still, behind his back.

Soon, Alex came and stood next to him whilst the latter hums. Comparing to Zack, unlike his fancy suit and shoes, he has got on a simple tan vest that matched his trousers whilst wearing a white button-up shirt. Also, to add to the mix was his black shoes and darker shades of brown cap atop his chestnut hair. Alex liked simple clothing. Where he was younger, on weekends, his outfit would consist of a light sweater and comfortable trousers with his socks, much like his last father. Now that he has a small job at a small fish market and his mother frequent guests, it's a rarity that he gets to do that.

"Dear brother, your thoughts question me sometimes." The voice next to him goes. Alex turns his head in response.

"How so?" Alex questions as the elevator noise seen to get a little louder.

"Why would you want to go to America?" Zack asked, placing his hand under his chin and rubbed his chin with his thumb. "I think those American are just a bunch of loud people with no class. They don't even sell alcohol legally, making bootlegger and gangs run around like street mutts."

"I don't mind it," Alex said, glancing down at the floor for a second. "I just want to look."

"Well, I hope you are using my money wisely," Zack alleges in reminder.

Alex rolled his eyes and shook his head. Everyone who knew Alex knew he wasn't too wild as his family, which makes him stand out. Whenever his family would have a party, he would typically hide in his bedroom with the door locked, practicing his guitar while slightly humming. Anyway, the money that he has earned from allowance and work, along with the money his stepbrother given him, was all for the trip. All Alex want to do since he was a little kid was to travel the world. He has only been to Scotland and France, but now he was older and out of schooling, he wants to see the booming of America hear about in the newspaper blogs.

Suddenly, the squeakiness of the elevator slowed as a large wooden box puts itself into place. The creeping of gears stopped as the box stopped and their gates lined up with each other. On the outside of the box was made of mahogany wood. The middle, where the entrance was, was two small door that would slide to each side the box. And they did, by a tall, built fellow dressed in a red suit, black shoes, white gloves, and small circular hat atop his shiny head. With the white gloves, he opened the black gate as it shrinks and pressed to the other side.

"Good morning, Mr. Merrick." The bellhop greeted with his Russian accent. "Oh, I see your younger brother, Mr. Gaskarth. Well good morning to you both sirs." He steps back into the elevator and stand by the wall adjacent to the doorway

"And a good morning to you too, sir," Zack says as he steps into the elevator without any hesitation. Alex waited for his brother to step-brother to get in, before he steps over the gap of the floor to the box. Soon, his brown shoes, meet red carpet that appeared dirty and old, even if the elevator was only placed a few years ago. However, it was an ugly color that the owner of the building chosen with the white room. It just made the ride of the elevator inside an unpleasant one sometimes.

"What floor are you folks heading to this hour." The bellhop asks as he closes the gates of both the gate and the box, now blocking the hallway.

"All the way down to the first, good sir," Zack answered, standing in the corner of the box room with his hands behind his back.

The bellhop nods and turns to the handle of the elevator. Each day, he must turn the handle in a circuital motion clockwise or counterclockwise, depending on the floor the residents lived, between the hours of eight am and twelve am. Somehow, the man didn't get so tired of turning it. Sometimes, guests who never step foot into the elevator, question his strength. He would always respond with a story of him being a bodybuilder with thousand hours of training back in his home country. Some do believe that, but some choose to believe it as false as witchcraft the gypsies do.

The elevator was filled with small conversions of the bellhop and the rich man, while the youngest fiddles with his fingers as he was leaning against the wall.

"Ah, yes, well my brother here is going America." Alex heard Zack said at one point and looked up to face the two-man.

"Oh, that sounds fun, congratulations sir, " The bellhop said as he continues to crank the handle. Alex nods and goes back to his mindless distraction of his digits, not before checking what floor they were on told by the needle.

Soon, the ride began to slow as the needle was barely atop the bronze 2. The low paid worker slows his pace the closer he got to the needle being atop the 1 as the men's final destination. The rich man finishes his rambling of his story he had told many times while the younger stares at the counter. Suddenly, the ride stops as the bellhop secures and brakes the elevator. Once he has, he moves to two open the two doors that reveal the gate to the lobby.

"I hope you gentlemen have a wonderful afternoon." The bellhop, with a small smile, motion his gloved hand towards the exit doorway of the box. 

"Same goes for you, my good man," Zack said with a grin before stepping out with quiet Alex, who followed behind. Soon as the two men stepped out, the uniform worker closed the metal gate with a clang then shut the two wooden doors of the box before it began to operate to go to another floor.

The two men walk through the first floor of the building that leads to the front doors. There is not much to see in this room. I had door s leading to small apartments, a small desk to check in with the landlord for a room, a few flowers in cheap vases made to look fancy along with the rug in front of the door that leads outside. The wallpaper being blue this time with wooden flooring lining straight. Zack pushes the clear window door with the steel handle with little difficulty and just walked out, leaving Alex still inside as he descended the stone steps.

Honestly didn't surprise Alex. He knew his brother loved his new car and was eager to drive once more. So he pushed the almost closing door and walks down the gray cement of steps. When he got off the last step and on to the pavement, he sees that Zack is already in his blue 1926 Rover 9 with the engine started up already parallel from the pavement and between other cars. The waxed blue stood perfectly in the shining sun as it twinkles in every direction.

Alex opens the side door of the passenger side to hop in under the black cover that is connected from the back to the front window. But soon as he closes the door, his brother starts to chatter. "Mmm, do you hear that, Alex?"

"What?" Alex irritatedly mutters, are ready knowing the answer.

"How she purrs." He eagerly states as he presses the gas pedal, taking the car away from the pavement to the semi-busy roads of London. Alex sighs and stares out into the city.

A few minutes later, the driver began to speak. "So when are you planning on going?"

"Hmm, like in a week or so," Alex responded. "Why?"

"Have you told Mr. Franceschi yet?" Zack asked. "Or how about that, whatsername, Lisa that liked since grade 8."

Alex groans at the names. Mr. Franceschi was his boss at the small fish market he works at for the past year. He was nice and paid well enough, so Alex would have no problem with him to ask. However, Lisa, one of his old schooling mates, was annoying. It seems like every day, she would come to the market, while he is working, and bug him with questions and mindless gossip, not even buying a single shrimp. It was obvious that she was flirting with him, but he never felt interested in her anymore as when they were in secondary school.

"No." Alex angrily mumbles as he stares at the passing buildings and cars.

"Just kidding," Zack moving on from that subject, looking for the corner of his eyes to see the skulling passenger. "I just hope that you have fun and stay safe, for mother's sake of course. And also, make so to write to us when you get there."

Alex turned to peek at his brother, who was looking at he before looking away to focus on the road. The younger turns away with a smug smile as he continues to soak up the familiar city before he is thrown to an unfamiliar one.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The honking of the boat seemed to break his thoughts away and the birds as well. He sighs before turning his head reverse. He now sees the building of the docking station on the other side of the ship over the crowd of heads. He hears yammering of foreigners and loud voice of the officials trying to talk over them. He continues to watch until he notices some of the passengers trying to skip ahead of the crowd as they were moving off the boat.

So he clutches his two suitcases in both hands by their leather handle. He takes a long breath-taking look at the sea once again if he looked back at the direction of his home country, before turning away and heading to the wild crazed lives of Americans in the Nineteen-Twenties pass that landing pad of the vessel.


	2. Chapter Two

Next!" A thick-voiced official in a navy blue suit and cap called for the next person to show their passports and items of luggage. He stood there with a blank expression and in front of him was a small wooden table to check for food or weapons brought by newcomers. Or the used word of, immigrants.

Alex stood in the front of the line as the official checks an elderly woman's baggage. It had taken a while to get to the front of the line since he wasn't the first few people to come off the boat. Being patience, he watches the different figures of people walking by. Some he compares the looks that of people with different attires and faces. Some, he can tell that the ones with the appear of confidence lived or have been here before. The ones with expressions of frightened or making strange movements, like tapping fingers and feets, were anxious the occupied new place gave them. And Alex was one of them, as he was drumming his fingers on the leather handles.  

"Next!" The official barked. Alex noticed the spot where the elderly woman was now empty, so he steps up and ushers towards the man in of him. The man similarly stood that of a statue, very tall and straight, unlike his crooked nose above his bushy brown mustache. His mouth in a slight frown with his cold deep coffee eyes stare at him. If he wasn't in a blue uniform of America, the traveler would have thought that he would be one of the King's royal soldiers.

The man held out his hand in need of his passport. Alex placed down one of his bags and with that free hand, dug into his trouser pocket. He pulling out the little black booklet with golden imprints with holes that showed the ID numbers and his signature. He then hands it to the official, who grabbed and began to interpret it. The traveler just stood there awkwardly while tapping his foot against the wood as the official flipped through another page.

"British, huh?" The man grumbled from flipping through the pages. The traveler nods his head.

"Even been to the U.S.?" The man asked. The other responded with a quick shook.

"Let me glimpse into your baggage, then." The official points to the two cases. The traveler grabs his belongs, hoisting them up then arranging them one by one in front of the bulky man on the tabletop. 

"You have any food? Weapons? Animals?" The official asked while unlashing one of the cases. The traveler shook his head in truth. The official considered one more grim look at him, before opening one of the cases. The first one, as he revealed by opening the lid, on the surface showed a nice, sky, blue, folded, dress shirt on the left side, while the other area had unwrinkled coffee trousers folded as well. Atop of that were personal hygienes like a small ebony comb and brown cap. The official than closed that one quick to take a glance at the other sitting next to it. He opens the slight tore one to revealed shoes, two pairs to be exact, with other little necessities. The official then shuts the suitcases while making sure he closed the lashes on both of them. Subsequently he elevates them up by the handle and extended his arms to the cases were in front of the newcomer.

"Well, welcome sir." The burly man remarked. Alex nods and grabs his bags from the man's grasp. And then he walked off, advancing in the direction away from the official as he yells for the next anxious traveler.

With each step he took, he would have to move aside due to many people with travel luggage much like him. However, it feels like people were purposefully sliding them near his path. It wasn't anyone fault, it was a hectic time in such a small harbor. Sure it was irritating, but he didn't say anything that could cause a harsh scene to happen. He just had to look around for the people and the signs to head the exit, whilst clutching the handle of his bag tightly and close to his sides. His watchful eyes scan through the crowd, meeting several stares, but mostly looking forwards to get on the street. Nonetheless, that still didn't aid him to stop bumping into people. Just when he stepped to the side of arrogant ladies that kept chatting without a glance ahead, he bumped into a stranger who was standing near the edge of the dock. Alex almost mislaid his balance while the stranger nearly lost his gold pocket watch in the water below them, but had a firm grasp in his pale hand.

"I'm sorry, sir," Alex claims quickly backing away. The stranger turned his head from his watch to the other, who showed concern while gazing at him. He almost stood at the same height as his with his slim body in his silk suit. It was indisputable that this man was wealthy due to his dark blue suit with black lapels, shiny cufflinks and a white handkerchief in his out of breast pocket. Along with a shiny gold pocket watch in his hand. Not to mention the fact his brown hair perfectly combed back with the sides shaved, in a weird style that made his forehead large then average people. The traveler thought the man's eyes would show rage, however, his brown orbs weren't full of it at all. And his thick pink lips were in a slight smile.

"It's alright." The man replies in a light airy tone."You came from that last vessel from Southampton, so I guess you're not from here?" Alex nods.

"It can be real rough at first here, but I am sure you be fine. It's undeniably a busy hour, so I'm sure you must be on your way." The wealthy man acknowledged as his eyes the bags in the traveler's hands. Alex noticed and remembered that he still had somewhere to be.

"Oh yes." Alex utters. "Again, apologies for crashing into you."

"Accepted," The other British man nodded."I must get going myself. Farewell." He waved slightly before stuffing his clock into his coat and brushing pass the traveler carefully then merging with the crowd.

Alex hums softly before turning the direction towards the stone pavement. Finally, he would no longer hear the creaking of conventional wood under his shoes, but instead soft taps of stone beneath them. Not many people walked on this side of the pavement. He did see some speeding pass from other directions, with bags flying behind them in their hands, head towards the harbor, possibly believing they will miss the boat to Manhattan.  

Alex stopped in front of the road on the pavement, looking for automobiles clearing the pass. He didn't see a person in uniform directing the street, so it puzzled him when to pass. And what was even stranger is that the vehicles were driving on the opposite side of the road. It just felt odd that cars were driving down the side that would go up. He was glad he didn't own a car, for he would have an uncomfortable driving experience. Especially, where the steering wheels were placed in the cars already confused him.

He decided to wait until there were many people standing near for him to pass when they do. He didn't want to be caught jaywalking, similar an Asian family earlier, who walked on the street and got yelled down. Alex didn't feel like being a called a jay on his first day, just like the Asian family. 

Eventually, what felt like forever, the automobiles finally stopped, showing off the stylish American cars and the faces of impatient drivers on the three-way intersection. The traveler sped pass the roads in front of those stares of car owners in front of him. Of course, he knew he would not get attacked by them, but something about them made him feel uneasy in his stomach as he strolls through.

Finally, on the pavement felt a little safer, but it was still had so many people. However, a problem arose that he didn't think of. 

He didn't know where he was going.

Times like these no one had a device to find a city with a press of a button or use a drawn map that could be correct of not for sea journeys. Nor telephone lines could call a diverse country. That was the problem entering into a new country without much knowledge of where the traveler could go. Of course, he wants to explore new places but sometimes he can overlook things.

He sighs as he continues to walk down the pavement. All he could achieve now is aimlessly sightseeing buildings and the roads. Of course, the buildings looked similar as like in any normal industrial city but different. A new place, of course, retains their different charms. Upon the buildings, he would see their enormous window displaying offices and products with the strangest propaganda stuck to them. Next, to him, the road controlled by morning traffic.Wheels inch their cars closer to each, almost hitting their metal bumpers. Another reason that the traveler was glad he didn't own a car was due to the angry individuals behind wheel similar to earlier. Thankful, on the streets, there was less, but sometimes there was the one person that would speed pass in business attire with briefcases and watches.  

Many moments of small sightseeing, he spots a bank of six stories at a corner of a four-way intersection ahead. The different shades of red brick building showcased the company logo in chrome letters of the bold font. The sun rays bounce off of them that Alex had to look back down at the double doors his steps would lead him over to. He reminds himself that he is in need some currency of US dollars in exchange of his normal coinage of British pound in order to pay for an apartment and other necessities of living. However, as he goes closer to the door, he remembers the amount of cash that he held in his suitcase, sitting next to his legal documents under his clothing. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Cloudy took over the sky over the metropolis above the sea. The musty atmosphere of the city along with moisture of the clouds and the English Chanel nearby, made the air heavy and somewhat unpleasant to breathe in. However, no citizen cared, it was just another rainy day in the city of Southampton, where many people worked or traveled on the steam passenger ships. Of course at the docks, a long line of people stood with bags, pets or children in their hands, waiting to buy a ticket. 

The shiny blue car parks parallel on the curb across the street from the dock quickly. When the driver thinks it was align well, he turns the small key the engine dies suddenly. The two doors on each swing open rapidly and the two men step out. The traveler swift turns his head towards the dock to the boat. He sighs in relief that the passenger boat was still parked with people yet in a short line getting tickets. Meaning that he was not late. Not that he needed to be in America in few days, he just did not want to late that would bother him. However, his step-brother managed to do that this morning.

"See, I told I would get you there in time," Zack said, as well praising himself. Alex virtually scoffed at the statement. The boat was boarding in fifteenth minutes and would let stop for anyone. The reason for this close to tardness was due to the fact that Zack was polishing his car early morning in front of the apartment. Several whiles, Alex shouted at him to hurry up because he knew it was a long drive and traffic of the early hours of the day would affect the time. It took half an hour before Zack finally stopped and drove out of the city. 

Alex didn't feel right due to his anxiety of stress and time. In the morning when he had woken up, new waves of feeling coursed through his veins unlike the days earlier of excitement. He could not believe he was finally leaving on his own, without his mother or brother, to a new place. It was exciting but nerve-racking as well.

Alex, still looking out towards the dock and the road, was waiting for cars to stop. Soon they do and just as he was going, thinking that Zack was behind him, following him. Instead, his stepbrother voice yelled, "Alex, wait a minute."

Reluctantly, he turned around with confusion and anger. He didn't want to be rude, but he needed to go. So withholding all his anger in, he spoke in a calm tone, "What?"

Zack said not a word but motioned his hand for the other to come to the other side of the car. The traveler sighed and walked into to the driver side in front of the hood, where the door of open and Zack stood behind it, covering most of his legs. Alex stood in front of his step-brother, who had both of his hands behind his back. With a sigh, he asked, " What's is it?"This time he was not afraid to show his emotion of annoyance. 

"Well," Zack mumbled, however, he was looking at the floor for an instant. For a moment, it appeared like he was in deep thought of something, which was a strange action to Alex. Generally, the elder usually knows what to say at the right moment, with confidence shiny through always. This was rather the first time he saw Zack struggling a bit with his words. 

"Here," Zack states whilst removing his hands from his back. Alex gasped loudly when he saw the things in his hands. Money held in his palm, four stacks held together golden bands to hold them together. 

"Zack, what the bloody hell," Alex whispered-scream. He doesn't want to bring attention to them considering his brother was retaining a large amount of money. "Why do you have that?"

"Well, I realized that you were really leaving home on your own. I wanted to make sure that you have enough money," Zack expressed. "I want you to have a good time. I thought about the first time we went on a vacation together in Scotland. You were so interested in exploring the everything it had to offer in the same week. You were inevitably so free-spirited, always wanting to break away from anything that stopped you. I know I gave you enough money to help support yours for two months, but I want you to enjoy more you wish for more than two months. So here is four thousand pounds from my saving account."Alex's mouth fell open, almost speechless. 

"Zack." Alex insisted. "You don't have to do that." What was he suppose to do with this amount of cash?

"I'm not taking it back. So you will take it," The confidence came back and practically almost pushed the cash into the traveler's chest. The traveler nodded and let Zack help him hide the money under the neatly folded clothes in a suitcase where the other amount was. He and Zack placed on the ground to open and put the other next to it. Once he closes the case, he gets up from crouching. Rather then grabbing the bags, he instead hugs Zack. This surprised the other. Alex never was one of human affection the years he knew him. Often, Alex looked also disgusted by people hugging, like his mother all the time. She never notices behind the fake smile he forces when she releases of her death grip of him, similar to this morning when he was about to leave. His arms slowly wrapped around the other and lets out a small sigh. 

Alex soon lets go and thus does Zack, who has a smile on his face. "Well, I should get going."

"Yes, have fun, but stay save. Make sure to write. And bring back one of those American actors. Mother would love you to bring one here." Zack joked, making the other chuckle.

Nothing else needed to be said as the traveler grabbed his luggage. His stared at Zack with a content smile on his face and the other returned a nod and a wave towards the boat. Alex just remembers and left, swiftly crossed the road. He promptly gets behind the person buying a ticket. After he purchases his tickets and while the official instructed him where to go, he looks back at the blue shiny car. There he could see Zack's figure lead against it. When the official was done, he passed him, not before waving solemnly at his brother. Even from a long distance, he still make a arm risen in the air, moving back and forth. He couldn't help but smile.   


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drugstore cowboy - A well-dressed man who loiters in public areas trying to pick up women.  
> sap - a fool or idiot  
> greenland - a park

Sun high above the city now. No clouds to disturb the clear light blue paint of the day. For people on the ground, the buildings of offices and headquarters blocked the complete view, however, most could care less about the sky. They only cared that thankful it wasn't raining. In those buildings, don't enjoy either. Confined to complete labor for the higher ups, their lives placed on the clock wanted to get paid for their services. Workers in the mills don't notice either due to filthy windows covered a clear view and clean air. Thousands don't really bring their attention to the sky until they look up and start to daydream.

Of course, that is what our lone traveler is doing, sitting placidly in a fancy ebony metal chair with blue plastic cushioning on the seat. His head turned in the direction of the sky outside the big clear window of a cafe. The green bond font of the privately owned cafe filters the world in its shade, while the sunlight shining through was green on the cream floor rather than golden light. In front of him was a table with a circular marble finish tabletop held by similar inky color metal. In front of the other side, was another empty chair, pulled in under the table. Also under the table, were his suitcases, which seem to be the only friends on his travel. In his hands, was today's newspaper, specifically in the advertising section and the newly added cars section. On the table, was a warm white porcelain mug half full of dark brown java, sat on a small plate of the same material.

The traveler took a deep breath, before turning his head back towards the shop. Only a Friday afternoon and it was surely busy. Business people roam the shop along with a few others like him. Many wait in the extensive line, almost halfway to door due to the counter towards that direction. Some would quickly drink their's fast in a few gulps and speed off on the streets again. Some would socialize with their friends in the booths and chairs of tables, laughing and chatting. While this, you have the lonely people, whether they merely happy, sad, or just does not know anyone.

That was Alex thought he was at least.

As he turned back to his newspaper of black inking ads, he didn't expect anything. With his nose deep within the newspaper, he didn't regard of the bell ringing from behind him on top of the door. It just sounds like another customer coming in. But then he heard the chair from the other side of the table pull out and the sound of someone sitting in it, provoking him to put his newspaper down reluctantly.

When he did, he was to say surprised that the man from the dock was sitting there. Still in the immaculate gray suit and combed hair. His thick lips in a smirk as he gazed at him. Alex began feeling awkward towards the stranger, that he was hesitant before he spoke. "Uh...Hello?"

"Greetings, fella." The stranger said still with a smile and his tongue full of confidence. Then there was silence. Alex had a few thought about this man, like at one point assuming he was drugstore cowboy.

"Um... can I assist you?"Alex questioned putting the newspaper in his lap.

"Nah." The stranger said, waving his hand. As it did, there was a small glare of light from a silver ring. "Sorry to bother. Name's Brendon. Brendon Urie."He extended his arm towards Alex, holding out his hand waiting for the other to shake it. Reluctantly, he grabs then shakes his hand. He notices that his hands were pale with as freezing of his metal ring on his skim finger. Also notices that the movement of the handshake was loose and that Brendon's brown eyes were full of delight.

"Brendon?" Someone called from the across the cafe. They both turn their head to see the barista at the counter, looking around for anyone to claim the steaming white mug next to her.

The wealthy man stop, let go of the Brit's hand and gets up. Alex observes that he fixes his suit jacket before he walks to the counter. Then, he watches as the latter pulls out his leather wallet in his pocket, while the barista's movements were sloppy and jittery now that she beheld the handsome wealthy man. The traveler almost rolled his eyes at the site, but since Brendon was simply paying for his hot drink, recompensing no mind to the women, he just turns his head back to the newspaper, in which he noticed an apartment was being offered.

What he didn't notice was Brendon coming back and glancing over his shoulder. So when Alex lifts his head to check where the wealthy man went, he was a startle by Brendon staring at the page.

"What is your deal, man?" Alex asked.  

"You just look lost earlier, so I wanted to help." He acknowledges with a smile and went to go sit back in his own seat. 

"Really?" He asked, his thick brow risen. "'cause there are other people that can't even speak English that are probably lost." Alex pointed out as the other blew on the surface of the brown drink, making small ripples.

"Well, I like meeting new friends everywhere I go. Like you, I not from here." Brendon said before his lips touch the mug as a modest slip of warm java run pass them before taking his lips off and sets it down. "Growing up on an island, I knew nothing about the U.S. except stories that my father depicted to me. The country annexed Hawaii a few years back. It wasn't until I was nineteen, I left to travel." Brendon rambled on before taking another a sip."So enough about me, I being a bit rude that I don't even know your name."

"Alex. Alex Gaskarth" The Brit spoke.

Brendon looked at him with the mug on his lips held by one hand, while he waves his other hands in a rapid motion. The travel, however, did not grasp what the latter was attempting to signal. Brendon stops and pulls the java away from himself, while he swallows the rest same in his mouth. "Come out, tell me where Alex is from?" He spoke as if the person wasn't there in front of him.

"The U.K," Alex said before drinking the last of his cold coffee. It wasn't that great of coffee, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Yes, I know from the hint of your accent. Like hometown or did you live in Southampton?"Brendon asked.

Alex shook his head before responding. "No, I lived in London."

"Nifty. Surprisingly, I didn't see you there in my travels. Do you know the King?"

Alex chuckled a little. "Why in the bloody hell would you think I know the King?"

"I thought everyone who lived there knew the King." Brendon blurt out. Alex pitched his nose with a small chuckle emerging from his lips.  

"At least tell me you live in a nice castle?" The traveler shook his head as he giggled.

He and Brendon underwent easier conversions as the minutes pass. Alex nevertheless took a while to open up and saw Brendon as an acquaintance. However, he understood the latter had a wild character while wondering if every American was like this. But, he conveys the thought aside because he can't judge an American by one person. Technically, Brendon was what they pronounced a Hawaiian. Nonetheless, he kept asking him many British stereotypes for a few minutes before giving up on the subject.

"So where are you heading after this?" Brendon asked.

Alex shrugs in response. He didn't know where he was going, He needed to locate a place to rest and unpack his belongs. He just needed to find a place, so he wouldn't have to pay money for a night at a hotel since he is planning to live here for a while.

"Well, I got finding a place to stay since I arrived here today," Alex said, kicking his one of suitcases a little with the heel of his shoe.

"How long are you planning to stay in Baltimore?" Brendon said, digging into his pocket for his wallet.

Alex shrugged. He didn't know how long he was going to stay because since he brother granted him so much money (that he still couldn't believe he's carrying) that will last him a while here. Not to mention he found out that the pound was worth so much in the US when he cashed in a thousand at the bank. (AN: British pound in the 20s was about 4 dollars in the US.) He wasn't planning to spend all of it, so he can at least give Zack at least half of it back, no matter if he doesn't want it back.

"I have not the slightest idea. I don't even my way around the city."Alex tells him the truth. He also watches as Brendon get up and pops a five-dollar bill on the table next to his empty mug, which he found queer.

"Wait, why are you putting money on the table? Won't the workers steal it?"The British man pointed it out as he stood up.

"That the point," Brendon emphasized. "No, it just a tip for the bus boy for cleaning the table. I almost forget that Europeans don't tip anyone; it been too long since I visit."He remarked as he pushes his chair.

"Anyway, I know a great place to stay. I live there too. And my friend runs the place." Brendon mentioned.

"Really? Is it cheaper than a hotel?" Alex asked, bending over to grab his luggage and placing them each on the table, in front of the latter.

"Yeah, like half the price and fewer people than a normal hotel," Brendon said, eyeballing the suitcases. His lips turned into a complacent smile as the looks of the gears in his head were being expressed on his face.

"Okay then," Alex noticing him googling at the leather handles."Where is this place?"He questioned with the wave of his hand.

Suddenly, Brendon grabs the handles of the suitcases swiftly and yells "Follow me!". He runs to the entrance, pushing the bar handle making the door fly open as he pursued the sidewalk.

"Brendon!" Alex yelled and ran hastily after him, disregarding people's judgmental stares. He pushes the door tremendously just it was about to close, making it swing in the opposite direction he was dashing. He ran, despite his attire was clearly unfit to achieve such an action. His eyes were focused on the other man as his legs carry his body. His blood boils as he was breathing heavily whilst also cursing under his breath. On occasion, Brendon would look back and bestow him a smile, as if mocking him. He was much faster than the Brit, which was annoying him as he endured a little pain from his chest. It's not that he was fat; it was just that he doesn't eat a lot, so that really didn't help him at all. And the people on the pavement are be staring at the two young men just running. No one helping, no one calling the authorities, and especially not a soul stopping them. Many times, Alex would almost bump into people and nearly stopped cars by running into the street.

He could not believe that Brendon would take his things. He knew he should not have trust the peculiar acting man. Conceivably, he was a con artist that pretends to be rich just to get close to his baggage. Nonetheless, he needs keeping going, gather his belongs, and possibly damage Brendon's damned grin.

However, after speeding via the city blocks from street to street, corner to corner, and through crosswalks, Brendon suddenly stopped. He stops at a street joint which was across the roadway what looked like a small greenland up ahead. Alex slows down and watches the latter walk up stone steps. When he gets to the steps himself, which he noted they were white against the brick building. He looks up for a belief moment to see the building was four stories and there was a hanging white sign swinging in the wind. "Modern Day Cain - luxury bed, breakfast, and etc.", in bold red colors with small bulbs that were framed with dull blue light bulbs that would likely to come on at night. He moves down his head to look at Brendon knocking, rather harsh, with the gray metal knocker against the white door. He kept yelling for someone, repeating the name 'Dallon' towards the people inside. 

Alex then remembers what Brendon just did and his sweaty hand curled into a fist. "Brendon! What rather stunt was that?" Brendon stopped for a moment and turned his head around. 

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing a rather tall individual with a frown on his face. He was wearing a simple navy blue sweater jacket over a white button up with some black pants that reached his ankles to his dark blue shoes. He crossess his arms and leans against the door, "Brendon how many times do I have to tell you: the door is open during this time of day and not to break the door."Alex noticed his voice was calming but he was a little irritated.

"Then why do you even have it then?" The wealthy man asked. Dallon pinched the bridge of his nose with his lids closed.

"You already know the answer, you sap." Dallon muttered before removing his fingers and looking up to spot Alex. "Who is your friend and what did you do to him?" The traveler was a little surprised that he knew that Brendon did something.

"Ohhhhh, why you gotta assume I did something to him." The latter responded with his hands on his chest. The owner rolled his brown orbs. 

"Anyway," The taller man said, pushing Brendon to the side. "Greetings, name's Dallon. What's yours?"He held out his hand to shake.

Alex smiles before shaking the owner's hand. "Alex Gaskarth."

"Anyways, you look like you could use a shower, so would you like to come in?" Dallon asked, letting go of Alex's hand and wiping his own on his sweater from the sweat. 

The traveler like that Dallon was a little nicer than Brendon. And he liked that he offered him to wash up before discussing payments. So he nodded before grabbing his luggage and following the two into the already home feeling vibe of the inn.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Balled up - confused, messed up  
> Blow - to leave  
> Chin music - gossip  
> S'amuser - enjoy  
> Allô - hello

Sunlight leaked through the open window and lay upon the small wooden desk that next to the opening in the guest bedroom. On the wooden desk, sat a piece of paper full of a few sentences with meaningful words in unique handwriting next to one of the inn's envelope. Also on the table was a small empty teacup with a tiny droplet that will soon dry in there. Currently, our character, Alex, is grasping a black ink pen in his hand that was on his chin as he is pondering on the next word to write. His other hand held on the paper, in which the sun was shining on it as well. Unlike yesterday, he is now wearing just a simple sweater that went to his elbows, which reveals rather hairy arms. He wore soft fabric on his legs with his ankles and feet exposed. The hair on his head was messy since he did not notice it in a mirror yet. But that was least important due to he is currently writing that letter he promised for Zack and his mother.

He removes the pen from his chin and continues to write down his choice of words. He did not feel like to rewrite this, but he did make some minor mistakes within in the terms that he will check over soon. He was on the last sentence, sending the last of his great wishes and loving words. In the letter wrote what had happened when he had arrived and tried to make it as cheery as possible because he is content that the sun was shining. And that morning he had was a sensation of refreshness as he felt like he dozed off greatly because he overslept his regular hours of slumber. This morning felt great, and he was glad that it was, indicating that his trip has not gone to disaster.

Subsequently, he writes his messy signature at the bottom of the page and begins to fix the small mistakes. His pen marks and scribbles slowly as he doesn't see a great deal of them. When he finishes, he grabs the envelope, which already had the address of the inn printed on there and wrote his name on the top left-hand corner and Zack's name and address in the center. He then folds the paper into the size that will fit in the envelope and slides carefully in there. Then the part he dreads the most is when he licks the sticky section of the envelope and seals it, but the taste of it is unbearable. Nevertheless, he was finished and would go to find a post office for stamps and send it on it way across the ocean. It would convey quite a while to get a letter back from Zack if his stepbrother would decide to write one back.

He places the letter on the table and sighs in his chair. He places his head in his palm, that faced upwards due to his elbow on the table, and leans a little. He then turns his head to the window and looks out. The room, in which he is staying in, was on the third floor and the window faced the metal gated greenland. Last night, he only stared at it for a little as the sun began to set before closing the curtains for slumber.

From that window, he now understands it was not a greenland at all, it was a property, which explained the metal gates next to the pavement of the street. The building was surrounded by trees but he could see it was like a gray stone castle. Be that as it may, the owner wanted to conceal their existence with thick black curtains hide the inside of each room. Of the traveler recognized that with a home like that they would need privacy. He tried to look past it and saw a body of water with a rectangle for a dock. Then, he glanced down a little to analyze the pavement next to the property and noticed people with their big folding cameras pointed toward the metal gate and some hold on to the bars to see with their own eyes. He began to wonder who lived in the mystery property that many people would want to get in and take pictures.

Just then he here rapid footsteps coming from the hall outside his door. Then the door opened and Alex elevated his head as it did. It was Brendon, dressed in black slacks with a gray button up with short sleeves tucked in.

"Morning, fella." Brendon chirped. "Or should I say afternoon?" Glancing at the wall clock in front of the desk. Alex hummed in response and turned his attention to the window again. Brendon noticed and walked to the window to witness what he was observing at.

"Damn, Barakat seems to have the press on his tail already," Brendon muttered, while Alex barely heard the name.

"Who?" Alex asked, taking his head off his palm and rested his arm on the desk.

Brendon turned his head with a look of disbelief. "Jack Barakat, the magician, that his house over there." Alex appeared balled up because he never heard his name before.

"Have you been living under a rock, fella?" The latter asked. "He just finished his world tour and arrived back home earlier this week. He was in London two weeks ago. You sure you never heard of him?" Alex again shook his head.

"Boy, I'm taking you to his next show tonight with me and Dallon," Brendon practically yelled.

"Now, you do not have to do that," Alex claimed. He was planning to just wander around the town and get a little familiar with the streets first. And accomplish this without the help of others.

"Dallon and I were planning to go anyway," Brendon said. "Come on, you'll have a swell time."

Alex thought about for a moment. For he never seen a magician before but wasn't sure if he wanted to see one or not. Nevertheless, he let himself nod slowly at Brendon.

"Nifty," Brendon yelped. "Get ready by seven." And he left with the door ajar. Alex glanced at the clock, seeing that he has about six hours until they go out. Despite that, he turned his head back to the scene of reporters and fans acting mad. This show better be worth his time.

-

Alex stares into the mirror of his bathroom, fixing his collar to smooth it out. The collar was white with black triangles on each side of it in front of his neck. His shirt was short fabric under his neck than the rest was white that was tucked in his black trousers. His jacket was black, as well to match the trousers, the lapel in two parts. One of the parts that goes down his white jacket buttons was the same black, but on his shoulders is dark raven shade. His shoes choice was the soft brown coffee color with black soles. His light brown hair was now a least tamed with fewer tresses protruding so far out, unlike this morning. But of course, he checks a little more before he gets out the bathroom. He checks the clock above the desk. The little hand almost pointing to the seven and the long hand on the eleven.

He exited his room with the door closed and walk down the cream color halls with walnut floors covered with sky blue rugs. There were three doors that he passed before getting to the wooden stairs to the second floor and he would do the same on that floor as well. When he arrived at the first level, the stairs lead him to a living room where guests could listen to the radio and read the newspaper laid out on the coffee table. Two couches in the middle of the room with floor lamps beside them. On the walls, were a few bookshelves with books. He passed through a dinner area with a large dining table that was decorated with candles and fake flowers in the middle. Then he got to the lobby, which had a few chairs and a front deck. Behind the deck, was Dallon, who writing something down and another man with short raven hair in casual clothing look over his shoulder. Alex learned his name was Ryan, who co-owns the place with Dallon. The taller was wearing a cream colored jacket with a black lapel, which matched his slacks and small bowtie. Both men looked up when they heard the Brit's footstep.

"Oh, good. You're ready," Dallon said. "You're are going to have to wait for Brendon to come out. It takes a good while." He ends with a sigh before going back to write down while quiet mumbling with Ryan. Alex decides to sit down in a cushioned chair and just focused on the beat of his tapping feet.

A few minutes passed and then Alex heard other foot noises beside his own. He looked up and saw Brendon stroll in. He wore a silver suit with marks that made it look scratch up but succeeded to appear stylish.

"Well, let's blow, fellas," Brendon exclaimed, acting like he was not about fifteen minutes late than the time he said they were going to leave. Alex arose while overhearing Dallon mention Ryan to lock up for the night. Then they were out the door.

The inn's sign was in a lovely color of bright red and blue that blended in with other small business on the same street. The lampposts lite up the pavement in yellow rings around its post. On the streets were indeed cars with headlights, but there was not that many, due to it being an out of the center of the city.

The three began to walk towards that direction. Alex began to wonder where this place is as he is watching the neon signs on buildings. "Where are we going to see this magician?"

"There is a nightclub that's in French that I can't pronounce." Brendon started.

"Le Royale Cabaret." Dallon pronounced for him. "It's not that hard to say."

"Sure, that," Brendon remarked with a small shake of his hand. "Anyway, Barakat does like to perform here a lot, so reservations are hard to get. However, I know the owner well, so that was a breeze." The man bloats the last part.

After that, Alex merely stayed quiet just taking in the city and stares at the total glory that it offered with all the lights and noises that it brought as they began to creep out as the day's sky embarks on fading. Rather than listening to his company's conversion in front of him, he focused on the noises he could hear as he walked. People's laughter on the streets as they passed by. The blows of bass and the strums of string instruments to create music known as jazz. The passing of the car tires on the roads. His eyes better focused on lights upon creatives symbols and word fonts that were bold and wanted to find out about them more. The further closer to the city center, which was near more water docks, the lights and sounds grew.

"We almost there, fellas," Brendon said. And he was precise because Alex could now see a three-story brick building. On the ground, formal people with swanky attire open the dark metal doors. Both metal doors had a pair of identical white symbols. Atop the peoples, heads were letters spelling out the establishment. The letters were metal in bold font with golden bulbs of lights lines within them. It wasn't the fanciest due to being compared to the hotel next to it, but what's inside that made it popular.

The three men crossed the street at the three-way intersection and the other fellows in front stopped their conversions. Dallon went to open the door, so Brendon and Alex could step in. However, before the Brit strolled in, he looked up at the sign above. Purple with silver cursive that wrote 'Enter if you dare" next to a milky hand with a digit pointing downwards.

Instantly, when Alex walked in behind the other two into the small room lobby gave off a different vibe. Dim golden lights hang from the black low ceilings illuminates the white walls and dark chocolate wooden floor. However, rather then regular white walls, the walls were decorated in black ink sketches of classical architect and natural symbols that felt mystical with the harmony of each line. A little distress was due to the words are written in the same ebony ink and the weird symbols that contrast with good. Along with room was the decor. On the brown floor, was an oval carpet with the maroon border surrounding a center of oil pastel flowers. In two corners, both beside the closed metal door were two small tables, both of an off-white shade. One held an ivory sculpture head, known as Mozart revealed by the ink on the base, drawn all over his clothing and face, similar to the wall. And the other, three white candles with small flames at the end of their wicks and dripping wax on their sides. This gives the small room a scent of vanilla, giving the calm effect. However, peaking at the doorway on the other side, covered partly by two large red wine curtains with golden tassels. In spite of that, light peeked out and of course, the sounds of chirpy jazz and chin music came from the other side.

"Reservation for...?" A woman's voice, in the corner. She had a youthful face, but she has wrinkles due to frowns that was framed by natural bleached blond color of long stringy hair. She stood behind a podium, that made was of redwood with cravings of the name of the establishment, making lights go inside the creases. In her pale hand, she held a navy blue fountain pen, possible to mark down the names of the guest.

"Brendon Urie." The wealthy man responded.

"Ah, yes," The lady responds as she strokes the pen on the paper. "Your seat is booth number 4 on the right." She said, before pulling one of the curtains. "S'amuser." She muttered in French.

Brendon went through first, however, Dallon lets Alex pass past the doorway ahead of him. Of course, he could tell the atmosphere had changed from just a few steps into the joint.

The room was illuminated with white lights from the tall ceilings tiles behind a square that was taller than the perimeter. They hide behind thick bleached glass in tiles with black frame separate each of them. Walls are a smoky color with decorations of art items hanging on them, giving the place a little more culture per say. The carpet appearing to be of vivid crimson with the designs creases of leaves and indigenous vines. Atop of this were, of course, the tables. Circular tables held by four legs were covered in cream color fabric that reaches the ground with vintage metal lanterns They are accompanied with chairs of embroidered cushions. These tables were in front of a stage, giving a vast space between them and the bar. The bar table was long and parallel to the wall with polished wax over the dark bark. Next, to it, there were double doors, that led to a white room that seems to be the kitchen. Fancy chairs line the outside but had no cushioning for them. In front of the table on the wall, drinks are shown off with ranges from the weakest to strongest of buzzes on the shelves in their glass bottles. Now moving to the parallel walls, booths line up the enclosure. Half of a ring was made into seats with red leather and with a table in a circle that was cut off at the end to follow the line of the booth. On the wall over them, are shiny copper character of numbers, along with lights hangs from the ceiling due to the ceiling being lower here. Finally was the stage, which took up the whole back wall. Rich redwood boards make it up with bright curtains at it sides. Every piece in the cabaret made the vibe of the appearance creative.

Now, it not like there was no people thither because there was a focus on the appearance. Common folk were seated in chairs or the booths. Some were alone, either looking a little down or just happy as they sip their drinks slows. Couples, such as men spending their coins on their dress up dolls, hold hands or share their concessions. Groups of people were happily chatting or cheering with their drinks and smokes in hand. They cheer for the women, known as the flappers, in their loss dresses and thick makeup all dolled up, dancing on the stage in front of the Africa American jazz players. Their smooth legs and broad hips move in a teasing way that would get any young men to tip them off. As if their legs had the effect of hypnosis. They move to beat of a deep bass but with much liveliness as the trumpets' and saxes' medley. Lastly, the waiters and bartenders in their uniforms that screams sophistication as they serve the concessions of their indigenous guests.

It's not that Alex has never been to a bar, but the place looks so elegant still looking pass the roody individuals. No doubt that the owner or owners are interested in the many cultures of the world, especially European culture.

When they got to the booth, Alex decided to take a seat in the middle, while Dallon and Brendon sat down at the ends of it. However, as soon as they rendered, a young man started to walk towards them with a small notepad and ink pen.

"Allô," He chipped. He was tall with the waiter outfit of black slacks, a striped vest, and a white button-up underneath. "What would you be having tonight?" He questioned. 

"I have a peach and lime daiquiri." Brendon eagerly said.

"Bee's knees," Dallon answered.

"Pop with a little rum, please," Alex replied. The waiter hummed as his wrote the drink and then mutter that he will go and left. 

"Well, would you look at that?" Brendon said, gazing at the dancing women on display. "Dallon, when are you ever going a girly like that?"

"I told you already when the time is right." Dallon retorted while he rolled his blue eyes.

"Sap," Brendon said towards his direction before turning to the Brit. "What about you Alex? You got a girl?" Alex responded with a shook of his head.

"Ah, come on. Don't you want to pick one up?" The wealthy man asked. 

"I don't see you flaunting around a woman." The inn-owner huffed as the music began to die down.

"I do have one, and she lives in New York, though." Brendon uttered as the audience members began to clap. "She goes by the name Sarah, by the way." Alex in the middle of the conversion spotted the waiter coming back with the drinks on a silver serving saucer. 

He did not notice the curtains beginning to close and the crowd began to die down. There was still spotlights in the front of the stages still shining. However, his attention was taken when the light dims and purple lights begin to light around the establishment. Indicting that the show is about to begin. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bent - drunk  
> Berries - money

Royal purple glows along the establishment where the white light bulbs were once shining over the bleach glass, giving a blurred spot of glass ceiling tile. On every table, even on the booth, the lanterns still shined their flaming wicks soaked in flammable oil. Over the booths, one violet bulb hangs in the middle of the once glowing golden bulbs, who's filament represent still a dull color of the original bulbs as it cools. The guests' cooled beverage glasses flare small specks of the royal pigment along with the rays coming through the smoke of their joints. The chatter, just similar to Brendon and Dallon's conversion, instantly became faint whispers and petty giggles. Crimson curtains in front of the stage occupy the attention of the footlights and spotlights placed on the edge of the platform, and not to mention the abundance eyes of the audience members had done the same.

Our traveler, Alex, has his hands folded in front of his chest. One hand placed on the cool table while the other holds his arm. In front of him, his glass of rum and soda pop that stood on top of a porcelain coaster. The ice that floated atop the fluid, makes it its glassware cold to the touch with bubbles of water lining the dark liquid of the surface of the glass. Fingers prints broken the perfection of the bubbles, which came from the Brit's hand that grasped the crystalware earlier to take a careful sip. Being an audience member, his own orbs were also glued to the stage.

Suddenly, after a few minutes of waiting, a hand pops out and grabs a hold of the curtain. The fist was a pale shine from the spotlight with long fingers with a few smoky metal rings that extended from a sleeve of a suit. Another hand subsequently emerges as well and grabs ahold of the other thick fabric. They get pulled by the hands to reveal a lanky, slender young man dressed in a midnight blue jacket. The spiked up brunette hair on the top of his head deemed him appear taller than he already is. His keen brown eyes are surrounded by smoky makeup, which allowed the movements of his peepers to be seen clearly as they survey the room. He smiles as he walks up, letting the curtains he was just holding to fall to meet again in the middle. He secures the ends of his coat as his shining shoes click on the wood before his palm grasp the silver microphone while his other hand seizes its matching, gleaming stand.

"Ladies and gentlemen," His soft voice sound throughout the joint. Excitement laced with satisfaction in his tongue indeed matched the light in his eyes and grin. "My, My, what a crowd we have tonight, you all look so beautiful." He includes a small whistle.

"Give another round of applause for the girls and musicians, who are backstage." He and the crowd follow with claps of hands but without the cheers from earlier. Alex hesitant let himself applaud but not as loud and long of the other spectators through the joint. The smacking of hands died down when the host had finally placed his hands on the mic anew.

"It is my pleasure to present our swell guy," He announced. "What fellow to come to do a show just after he finishes his long, possibly tiring, tour in Europe."

"It is my pleasure to present the man himself, Jack Barakat." The host announced triumphantly, causing the crowd to clap as he strode off stage with the steps on the side. Alex again clasps his hand together, but he paused once he noticed after a while when his hand began to sting a bit. There was nobody the stage for a while, which was weird.

He then decides to tap Brendon's shoulder, in which the latter rotated his head to face the Brit. "What is supposed to happen anyway?"

"Just wait for it," Brendon chuckled."The guy is known for being late." Alex hummed in response and left the wealth man alone. Under the table, his feet were tapping quickly as he calmly takes another small sip of his light acid drink.

Suddenly, loud knock of wood from the stage accompanies a cloud of dark smoke appears out of nowhere, which made some audience members' eyes to go wide (including Alex). This smoke goes from the stage to almost touching the ceilings just enough behind the microphone. Speaking of the mic, it manages to pick a coughing and groaning noise of a man from behind the smoke.

"It's been so long since I did this trick." The man manages to spit out between his coughs. This makes some viewers quietly chuckle at his misfortune. A tan hand in waves in front of the smoke, clearly it until you could the man himself.

Sophisticated is the fashion of a black suit, but clearly, a man of elegance was just a mere hint of his personality that Alex could see from the yellow bow tie. Another suggestion of his ludicrous side is shown from his hair of brown, spiked up with a bleached part that was wedged between. And he smiles between his weakening coughs and the light caught in his large dark chocolate eyes throws sparks of eagerness to his crowd from under his thick eyebrows. Underneath his straight nose, a clean shave could be seen by the gray outline that reaches his hair on the side and under his rounded chin, His olive hands dust off his shoulders and fix the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Rian, you were right," he muttered that was caught by the microphone. "This trick would definitely fail." He says with a small chuckle. A distance laugh from backstage emerged as a response.

"Well, hello everyone," He began introducing himself, grabbing a hold of the stand directly under the mic. "It been a while since I been here and I'm so glad to see some familiar faces," His eyes scan the crowd, first the tables then the booths.

He observes attractive women and men in the joint, locking with many eyes that makes his heart full with happiness, with his brain work along with his lustful excitement as he is loving every second of meeting their different sparks from the lights. One, in a booth close to the stage, in a dark fitting suit jacket, with his hand placed on his cheek, looking at his drink for a moment. A split second, the stranger from across the room, moved their eyes back to the stage. And their eyes locks, the magician see his the purple and golden light on their swirl of syrup pupils.

"And some new faces as well." He added passionately, still looking at the stranger with a slight grin with a flash of pearly whites, before looking away. Some women around the stranger the neighboring booths swoon with gentle sighs and waving their hands, hand-held embroidered folding fans, or handkerchiefs being fluttered. This is due to mistaking that the millionaire considered his interest on them, selecting them out like a fresh ripe apple sitting there in shining, flawless skin.

However, Alex did not know if the smile was directed towards him. In his mind, he thought possible of the magician viewing at the women in his direction. He knew it was peculiar for a man to gaze at a man with great lust and pleasure, it was just bizarre in his opinion because he never saw it happen. So he decides to just brush it off with a sip of his refreshing drink and watches the action.

-

The audience begins to clap again form their stinging hands from his prior trick. He gave them simple tricks such as levitation of several items, pickpocketing those from the crowd that amused them when he returned them. Smoke and cards were his specialties as he would embarrass the crowd and even the waiters as they gave him some water and small shot glasses. Alex could not deny he is brilliant, not only because of his tricks, but also the ability to tell jokes that would cause great laughter and a bubbling personality that he was unafraid to show.

He is practically panting as he wipes his glistening forehead from sweat with a cloth that he pulled out of his pocket, his open lips are still lifted upwards. Th crowd was unexpected that the magician was in the vicinity to perform his final trick, as they were drunk by their gay time and from their drinks. Alex is smiling as well, he was immensely enjoying the show, and Brendon noted this too and told the traveler that is was an excellent idea to take he the show. The traveler agreed, he did not regret coming with the two men because the magician was absolutely spectacular.

"For my last trick, I want to spread joy." The magician uttered sincerely. "But first, I must give a shout out." He begins giving his regards to his assistant, who the crowd now knew as Rian Dawson, and how he organized the event with the owner, Remington Leith, telling that he was truly grateful especially when he was busy in Europe. And he also thanks his lovely beautiful audience and the staff that assisted him so, in which they could feel his gratitude caked into his firm voice.

While this, a man with a strange fashion choice that closes to a pirate, along with a torn inky hat and rose pink makeup sparkling underneath his eyes, walks to the stage with a vase full of what appeared to be daisies. He was not an ordinary employer, for many who 7seen him knew that was the owner's younger brother. White petals with vibrant sun-like centers being fueled by water in the vase. He goes the stage and places the glass vase on the cloth table that held the magician empty glassware. The older man notices the flowers there and the younger grabbing the crystal to take to the kitchen. He thanks him, and the younger flashes a smile with dimples on his cheeks before walking off.

Jack stared at the flowers, then extends his hands, looking at a fool just like the other tricks he performs the night. His eyes cast away, just like they did in the show and were locked with the stranger in the booth. He swiftly glanced away, but his urged to smirk for what he about to do. White pedals in his head disappear that it takes a while, until a stage light flashes, and there are gone.

The audience looks around to where the flowers until they realized that blooms had appeared in their glass. They lean against the glass as they soak in liquids of all sores. They do not realize the irony of an innocence flower in their drinks capable of corruption once it passes their throats. They instead clap their hands once more along with cheers and whistle, despite one problem.

Brendon and Dallon laugh they clap, cheering the magician along with the crowd. However, they notice Alex with a look of confusion while glazing at his glass with his hand on his tilted head. For he noticed that he did not have a flower in his glass, unlike the other two glasses.

The magician smiles as he picks up a lonely flower that was left on the table. This one had perfectly shaped white pedals connected on a center of bright yellow. "Hold on, everyone." He called into the microphone. People who were bustling with chin music were now hushing themselves to be quiet as mice.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" He exclaimed, holding the blossom. "It seems like I forgot to issue one to the lovely man in the back!" Waving his palm towards to the stranger in the booth with his other hand.

"Wow!" Brendon whisper yells toward the fluttered traveler while nudging him with his elbow. "That's you, fella!" In spite of that, the Brit did not respond to him, merely stared at the magician, who also locks eyes with him. A hint of desire he could sense swimming in his orbs which he was sure he saw staring at him early. His ears felt hot, but no one could see the tips was flooded in a shade of pink due to the piercing eyes of the performer and the crowd like at him.

"Pardon, beau monsieur," Barakat practically purrs, making the success causing the cheeks of Brit to feel as they were engulfed in flames. He knew a little French, but that was a very simple phase in French that plenty can figure out. He briefly glanced down to look at the table and the sleeve of his jacket, pretending to be interested on the lint that laid there as his fist holds up his jaw.

At that moment, he heard cheers and the clapping of hands start again in the joint, which confused the Brit, who then glanced up, see the glistening pedals basking in the royal shade from the light bulb in his drink. Thankful, many individuals just cheer once again to the magician on stage, so no one paid attention to his rosy cheeks as he stares at the flower.

"Thank you!" Jack chuckled out. "Thank you all!" He said one more time before another bang rang out and the dark smoke from before engulfed him anew. Yet, this time, when the fog cleared, the magician disappeared as the white lights of the ceiling turned on, furnishing the room once more the feeling of joyful festivity.

The sophisticated host came sauntering to the stage one more time, with of course a bright smile from his glossed lips. He again takes the microphone in his hand anew while it catches the clearing of his throat. "What a show! What a show!" He emphasized the second time, which produces some of the chatter to calm a bit. "I hoped you all enjoyed it. Stick around cause Jack will come out soon for a drink, so wait."

On cue, the curtain folds toward the side of the stages, being pulled back to reveal Jazz musicians holding their instruments waiting for the leader to start. A man gripping a shine silver trumpet near his mouth counts to three, which start his group with the powerful blast of bass and their harmony with the complex notes flowing out of the wind instruments. The owner stroll to the sides, heading backstage.

Chin music starts anew too, as upwards curled lips developed their gossip of the magician. Some do leave the club, having an enough of the joint since they saw the performance and wishing to take the night for slumber in warm beds. Folks that were going to head out were persecuted by fellow mates to continue to chat, smoke, and drink until the end of the night. Those called for waiters to refill their buzzing desires in their glass that irradiated them for being without any drops of liquid. Plenty of individual get up from their seats to socialize with their many acquaintances, whether they were dazed or not, sharing topics that just ran for their active mouths. Smoke could be seen clearly from the cigars and cigarette holders as they light once again by the mindless individual that does not have the knowledge of what it does to them, only the taste of addiction as they take drags. Couples talk to other couples about the magician, especially the women that could swoon over them, making the fellows with expressions jealousy of the millionaire and gripping their waists or hands to keep next to their sides. However, many of the unmarried girls and flappers, that now went out into the bar, chatted about him, yet also are scanning the room for possible lone men to hook up with. Nonetheless, some the single chaps, with confidence enough, as well as pockets full of those green berries that the girls craved to the most, would purchase them drinks or offer them a frisky night in bed at the hotel next door.

Brendon called a waiter to refill his drink for the third time, establishing him a little bent as he giggles at Dallon for no reason that Alex caught in their conversion. The inn owner just shook his head in response to the fit.

"I have a suggestion," The wealthy man mutters with slight slurs.

"I also have a suggestion," Mumbled Dallon irritated, wanting Brendon to shut his trap before he says something very queer.

"Shut the fuck up, sap!" Brendon shouted, placing his elbow on the table. "I was going to say that Alex should meet Barakat, Dallon." He turns to the British man, ignoring the deathly glaring blues of his tall friend.

Alex hummed before speaking, acting as calm as possible. "I don't know." He said reluctantly. "I bet so many people will want to see that he just be extremely tired."

Brendon let out a mighty chuckle from his mouth with his lids closed, paying no mind to Alex's nose scrunch up between his eyes until he opened his own. "No No No, you got it all wrong, fella. Jack, in the presence of a drink or partying, he never gets tired. I'm sure he be glad to meet you." He utters, emphasizing his gaze on the flower on the glass with a smug smile.

And just on cue, Alex hear many gasps and shout through the joint toward the door of the stage. There he was again, the magical man with a marvelous grin, waving to several people with his free hand while his other holds a wine glass full of burgundy fluid. However, the Brit could also see he is accompanied by a shorter man in a silver suit with a blue-collared shirt, who appeared to look bored as he scribbles into a small notebook with a pen. Then the latter's lips move close to the ear of the millionaire, seeing that he was murmuring something, making the taller of the two nod solemnly.

"Well, someone made a grand entrance," Dallon muttered sarcastically toward Alex as they were in casual conversion. This causes Brendon once again inappropriately giggle.

The wealthy man and the other man when to some people in a group that were standing up while they were smoking. Several greeted him with welcoming gestures: handshakes, smiles, small talk and appraisal, comments on his looks, hugs, and some of the women gave him light kisses on the cheeks. All of these, he presents that he gladly accepted these gestures while making lovely wits and comments. Yet, still, some people, timid as they stay in the comfort of their tables, were either afraid or were silently swooning over him.

When Jack seems free of the crowd of people he is chatting with, Brendon noticed and then shouts. "Oi, Barakat! Dawson!"

The Brit watches as the smiles drop of the two men in the distance, but only for a moment before meeting Brendon's swinging pale hand in the air.

Jack looks at Brendon, next meets Dallon, then the eyes of the mysterious stranger that he given to the last flower to. He swiftly crosses the room, while Dawson follows whilst checking his shimmering leather wrist watch.

"Brendon!" The millionaire shouted when he got to the table. The latter held out his hand, indicating he wishes for the other man to shake it. "It has been while, when did you arrive in town? And Smith is not here?"

"Two days ago from the trains from California." Brendon bloated as he looses shakes his hand rapidly in the latter's hand. "My buddy, Spencer, gone to Manhattan when we got here." Jack nodded and looked to Dallon.

As Dawson greets Brendon, Jack held out his hand in front of Dallon for him to shake. "Dallon, how have you been?"

"I'm great," He mutters, firmly shakes his hand. "Yet, been getting complicates of shouting people outside their windows. I supposed you didn't have anything to do with it?" He mentions with a smirk, recalled when Ryan informed him of folks standing in front of the millionaire's mansion gate. Jack chuckles along with Dallon's, while he lets go of his hand.

Alex felt like a small child, as the four men talk, feeling small in his seat. Right now, he could not help himself staring at the delightful man as if he was an exotic animal in the wild. He cursed himself mentally when the gentleman, after shaking the inn owner's hand, avert his eyes to his own. A charming face and eyes that examined him for a moment before he spoke.

"And who is this fella?" He asked innocently, pretending he had not called him out earlier

"Oh, that Alex," Brendon pointed out.

"Hello," The British man waves, attempting not to act timid.

"This is his first time in America."

"Really?" Jack questions, being intrigued. "Where are you from?"

"London," Alex mutters, trying not to choke.

"What a great city. It got great views and always something to do." This makes Alex smiles.

"The attractive castles too," Jack adds. "I always wanted a home like that."

"Well, I hope you already enjoying it here, then." Then he held out his hand for the Brit. Alex hesitantly lifts his slightly shaking hand and slips it into the magic man's hand. Then, with the latter's firm grasp, he moves their hands up and down. And again, charming chocolate orbs gaze into his, Alex could not help his softly burning ears and cheeks. Then when they let go, he felt himself relax as he lays his hand on the cold table. And he felt slightly dizzy that he didn't hear what Dawson told Barakat that they needed to leave, saying he has an early morning appointment of some sort.

"Well, we gotta go," Jack said to his acquaintances, while left Dawson calls his driver.

"Ah, man," Dallon muttered. "I thought you and Brendon would go drunk dancing tonight, would have been enjoyable."

Jack chuckled. "Maybe another time."

"With you in town, that won't be long." Brendon remarks as he digs into his pocket for a smoke. 

"Yeah, well. I gotta get going before Rian has my head." The millionaire waves at all of them, but the last person he locked orbs one final time was, of course, Alex, before trudging away toward the curtains of the lobby.

"See, what a swell guy," Brendon told to the Brit as he lights his joint. Alex merely nods and views at the flower on the rim of his half-full drink. Bright white pedals with a sunny center were the focus in his eyes. However, his head was focused on the stare of the brown irises of the magic man. Intriguing, he ponders if he will see him again. However, his focus goes to looking at the other men in the booth, he believed that there was a fair chance.


	6. Chapter Six

The week had seemed to be gone a flash for the young traveler, as today is the end of the week on a Saturday night. Alex had been roaming around the streets of Baltimore, which was interesting that they were stocked with lively expressions within the people and buildings. Delightful mornings allow the presence of many shops, restaurants, and daily activities on the water and greenlands. The mysterious night provided a secret of a neon city that competes with the starry hours of darkness and the glowing moon, which both lights were reflected by the murky waters of the harbor.

It made him content by the filter being blinded by those shiners upon the buildings. His exploration contributes him to the inspiration of going back to his writing of poems and literary. A lost passion that required it so desperately over the course many weeks, which clouded the pain of his itching hand that never knew what word to start. Now, his mind bubbling his thoughts of endearment and lust for what he sees, romancizing into lines with careful words, delivering them to the light of day when his ink pen scribbles on the once solitary bare pages of his notebook. Although when he paused his pen in his hand to think, he subconsciously turns his head to the window. Of course, the same scenery but with little changes each time he gazed upon it. The road still there with automobiles of diverse models and color drove by like they consistently do, something that just Alex is familiar with back in the apartment of his mother's. Also, people strolling the streets or riding a bicycle just outside of that ebony metal gate. That's what drew in the traveler's orbs when he shifted his head. He recalled of the conversion that the millionaire stroked up he met at the bar that he rather enjoyed viewing the English castles, which Alex could present an argument that the magician was living like he was a king with the stone walls of his home and beautiful outdoor decor of the gardens. He would catch a glimpse sometimes, viewing people dressed in clothes that of service, as they would care for the grass and garden as far he could pass towering trees and dark thick bushes, being the ones who told very little secrets. When turning his head back it would take a while to provide the hook again for the line because of the thoughts of curiosity and mystery clouded his consciousness, often causing frustration in a groan.

And his thoughts wondered why those people did that when the yard was hidden to the public by dark tall bushes about as tall as the trees. And he did get his answer and was standing in the mist of it inconveniently with a crystal glass of bubbling champagne.

It was yesterday when he received the hint, just less than an hour before noon while Alex was partaking of breakfast. He was quietly chewing on soft oats with sprinkles of cinnamon at the wooden table with the radio, placed at the center, transmitting a little static chattering of the weatherman mentioning the predicted forecast for the next four days like he did every hour for listeners. Alex merely wondered what he was going to do, admittedly developing himself to space off as he munches on his oats.

He noticed out the corner of his eyes of someone walking into the dining area, but he did not pay attention to them. Until he found out it was Brendon when the wealthy traveler said his good morning, in which Alex return with a wave of his empty spoon.

"You got any major plans tomorrow?" Brendon asked when sat slightly on the edge of the table. The Brit shook his head in response.

"Then, I was wondering if you liked to come with me to a party," Brendon said whilst he examined the edges of his fingernails.

"I'm not entirely sure," He answers, recalling times when Zack had asked countless times when his mother had guests in the apartment penthouse. Many occasions, he pretends that he is not there and hides in his room. With the door locked especially, because of an incident that involved a bent couple as they make out and opening the door to his room planning to do the do.

"Come on," Brendon pleaded a little."This is Barakat's welcome home party. He even asked if you were coming." Alex hummed at the sound of that, in which emitted him an intriguing spark, debating whether it was a sensible idea.

The answer is clear since Alex was still holding that cool glass of the bubbling drink, appearing as awkward as could be, but not with intention. He felt like a neglected child for a moment, in which Brendon made him endure when he placed the glass in his hand and ran off, disappearing into the crowd of people in his flashy golden suit jacket. However, even if Alex did not get the impression as he belonged, he found a spot to drinking in his view from the outdoor stone off-white baloney calmly rather then drinking his champagne.

Lights strike his eyes. Everywhere from many shattered bulbs with a strong watt count that combined could blind the stars and the moon from above, that just could not compete with the party but still shining despite that. These lights are carried by crystal chandlers that hang from the ceilings with the elegance and ornamented chrome of the rococo style holding their bulbs. Spotlights seem to add on the ground and gardens, giving beams that point outwards in whatever direction they face. However, not just light bulbs emit the only glow. Gold, silver, bronze, glass, and others reflect them beaming them back. Dressings and jewelry upon the women especially with their numerous jewels, rhinestones, gemstones, silk upon their moisturized and pampered figures, reflecting sparkles as then move with their friends and/or lovers. Glassware and silverware glare the thirst and hungry of the guest with the presence of food and drinks on tables and wineglass with samples carried by waiters, those who are dressed in white gloves and striped waistcoats. Fountains and the large pool come with colorful lights, glistening as the water streams down, and ripples form o rings. Windows are mirrors, and mirrors are windows, in which both reflect the light of the party, shinning in the vision of the guests' wide orbs, keeping the night alive for as long it can. Even if the party goes as far as to meet the dawn when it hits the horizon.

And if that did not work, then perhaps the sounds of music that of brass and deep string filling the air along with loud chattering of the attendants. Outside, underneath as to where Alex was standing, where noises were full volume, played rapid swing with brass blasting at fortissimo with the strings and percussion keeping the beats so the medley does not wonder to far off. A deep masculine voice accompanies it by running lyrics from his slick smackers into the mic as he wiggles along with the crowd that dance with the beat of their hips and feet.

And, ooh, those flappers again, in swanky gleaming dresses exposing their silky glistening legs and breasts whilst lining their curves of hips, waist, and bums as they dance on stage, withdrawing the attention from the singer in the front. Jewels sling along their wrists, napes, and ears and the breeze flowing through their short curled hair, the fashion statement of hair for the light-spirited females. Along with powdered-faces and caked glossed lips like spring blossoms in bloom, provide the thrills in those who beseech them in their grasp, even if it is just one, possibly forgettable, night. As for the women, who have partners already, are envious of these ladies who might take their arm candy, as they attempt to dress and act with their confidences as if they could wear their prancing shoes.

Many of the guests wear the best from their closets, but not in the innocence to dress on a Sunday morning to church. Men donning their garbs, that of crazy or shining colors, people such as Brendon in his golden suit jacket. Or just classic colors but with metal gleaming of expensive watches, rings, or small rosaries, yet, not as much as dolls some had brought. For the love of jewels and sparkles could be seen on their bodies, one way or another. In their jewelry, shirts, hair accessories, and glitter pigment in their makeup mostly to show off for their men or themselves. Faces in awe and endearment were the masks they needed for this ball, a ball they did not wanted to disappear.

A soft passionate sigh slip passes the traveler parted lips, being in love with the scene. As he then sips his lightly bubbling drink, he thought of how he has never seen a party quite like this, where it was chaos in control of the strings of elegance. Comparing to the festivities of a cramped penthouse with the volume too loud and sense of control were out the window, the venue was practically perfect for the clamorous amplification and the chaos, with its many rooms. This was only the beginning of the night where the most people would not care how much they drank, where their pain was, then where their clothes are, what the traveler will witness from a relatively safe distance.

In which gave him a little fear because he did not want to in the middle of a place where entropy reigns over the folks. He felt inclined to leave, believe that his gazing fun should be over before tomorrow's dark morning should start. He decides that he wants to find Brendon to inform him that he will go back to the inn to rest for the night. Unluckily, Brendon was not in the crowd below him as he tries to search for the golden jacket in the crowd nor was he was near the dock or its surrounding garden. He turns himself around towards the rest of the large baloney, which had wired tables and potted plants. Through several groups of people in front of his vision, he did not find the exact gold. For example; he mistakes many womens' dresses, which had matching shimmering sequences, a couple times. He groans under his breath, making himself walk towards the mansion with its massive windows and doorways showcasing the large room that appeared to be a ballroom.

He would constantly turn his head to and fro as he walked to the double pearl white french doors, trying to get past those in his way by moving and sliding his feet to the side so he can move to pass another fountain and people standing here and there in groups dancing or talking to each other. However, as he was striding, he did not know that there was a puddle of some sort of clear liquid. So when he crosses the path with his black shoes, he loss his footing and with a thud landed on his bum. The liquid bean to soak his pant leg, but he doesn't pay attention to that. Instead, he encountered the eyes of several people that chuckled shamelessly at him. It made him feel embarrassed with the tips of his ear turning to warm pink under his hair as he lows his head to look at his pants.

"Oh my goodness," He overheard a distressed voice near him. "Sweetheart, are you all right?"

He reluctantly raises his head, and it met with two females staring at him. One of them has her hands on her knees with blue-green eyes with smoky makeup looking at him in concern. Alex noticed she is wearing a midnight blue dress with black leather making a rounding pattern that leads to the ebony slight swinging tassels on her skirt. Her raven hair curls with brown highlight strands as they are held against her head with a headband what appeared to be laced with onyx-like jewels, topped with feathers to match. He looked beside her and there stood another woman but with dark eyes and her chocolate hair done in a side braid bun with a quartz flower pattern headband. Her rose gold dress was tight and short with gold designs room around and heels to match the fabric, topped with long silk gloves against her olive skin. The Brit admitted that both women looked really pretty and it solely made him a little more overwhelmed.

"Um," He began to stammer. "Y-Y-Yes."

"Okay," The raven haired uttered."But I think you would feel much better if you got up. Do you need a hand?" The women extended one of her pale palms toward him. Hesitantly, he receives her tender hand and stumbles a bit to get up, trying not to step in the puddle. The two women giggle as she lets go of his hand.

"Thank you," Alex mumbles with a slightly bashful smile.

"You're very welcome." The pale woman grins. "My name's Kellin by the way. Behind me is my friend Katelynne." The darker skin woman smiles, showing a patch of whites while she slighty waves.

"Oh, um, Alex." He mutters.

"Well Alex, wouldn't you like to get some new slacks?" She asked softly as if he was a smaller one. He looked down at pants, remembering of the wet fabric now damp against his skin.

"Yes," He replies with a nod. "I was just about to leave anyway."

"Leave!" Kellin suddenly exclaimed. "Why, darling, the night has barely started yet." She remarks with her hand under her neck. Yet, still, Alex stood there quietly.

"Katelynne, I'll be back. I've gotta the young man some new pants." The other women subsequently produced a smug smile towards Kellin, thinking some else in mind. The other gasped, comprehending what she was pondering which then she slightly groans.

"You filthy girl," She remarked, yet the darker women appears unfazed by the comment and exactly kept her glossed lips smug with a bit shrug of her shoulders.

"Come, Alex," Kellin said as she forcefully grabs the Brit's hand and heaves it to walk with her. Alex yelps a little when he's forceful dragged toward the indoor entrance of the mansion.

He was surprised that the women in front of him secured a hearty grip on his hand that he just let himself follow her with a sigh. She was moderately swift for a lady in heels that he would stumble a little as they walk, dodging crowds of people. Alex got lost in the scenery of the inside of the house, in which the first room that showcases the outside, which stood as a grand ballroom. Looking down at his stumbling feet, he noticed the room changes from blenched stone to the swirls of gray in the marble waxed floors that reflect the brightness coming from the golden chandeliers hanging overhead. Mable runs on to the walls as smooth pillars seem to last forever to soaring ceilings echoing the sounds of chat and music within it cherry red walls. Again, like the outside people dance around but more in a sloppy waltz to piano keys chiming sharp presses of a medley at forte by the pianist with lightning speed digits. The guests did not care if their feet were both left as they dance, whether solo or in pairs. Plus more food and drinks are being served here on tables and waiters pass them samples, get on them high off of sugar, liquor, and drugs.

Suddenly, he gets drag to a staircase, one with two sets on either side of the room between a low chandelier, made with glossed smoke with black metal barriers that swirl their design under the redwood rails. Kellin was confident to excuse herself and push pass many people, who just glanced at them strangely before going back to their own company.

Alex was dying to know where Kellin was going, for the house was huge, with his awe fought with his fear. He doesn't know whether if she just fancies herself to him and wants a long night alone together wrapped in bed sheets, causing him to have lightly crimson cheeks. No doubt that she was attractive, but he was not the one-night stand type of fellow, especially since he was timidly speaking when they meet a few minutes.

However, his distraction was the decor of the hallways, rooms, and staircases they passed through. Old styles in on the walls and furniture that clash with the modern elegances of the era conveyed the magician's castle a spectrum of emotions represented by each color he owns striking the hearts of his invites. The reds of rugs and walls or greens of plants and blacks of wine bottles, allowing a flowing filter of ambition and/or jealousy of wealth. But Alex could recognize the polished side of hues, sparkles accompanied by the wall lamps and celebrated the millionaire's aesthetic that was difficult to fantasizes in his time, only a glimpse at it in the dulled down coloration of the black and white movies.

The more halls Kellin lugged him through, the fewer guests appeared. And finally, through another set of stairs, Kellin slowed down and let go of his hand. The hallway they stood in was small with a set of silver french doors and a petite houseplant on either side, along with paintings that hung upon the cream colored walls.

"Don't touch anything in here." The women warned the Brit. "We are only here to find you trousers." Alex mentally sighed, fostering him a sense of relief. In spite of that, he nonetheless has a lingering question as Kellin was removing a painting from the wall.

"Who's owns this bedroom this?" He asked.

"Well, you are about the same height as Jack, so I figure to get you some slacks here." His eyes widen as she obtains a key from behind the painting. "But don't ruin anything in there. Rian will have a big fit if he finds out that people are in here." She mutters when she places the frame back on the wall. Then, with the key, she unlocks the door and opens one of the silver doors. She gestures for Alex to come in with the wave of her hand, in which he follows into the dark room. He hears the door creek from behind him then suddenly the light turn on with a click.

"Wow." Slipped from his lips subconsciously. A bedroom, he thought truly fit for a king. The tall ceiling hangs a personal chandelier in tarnished silver. Satin blue sheets and pillowcases lay atop of the bed that looked so comfy with a pillow made of fluff. Chrome metal bars headboard and footboard to match, but they are overshadowed by golden fabric that moves as thin triangles to the lofty ceiling that match theater curtains. Next to the bed were nightstands that mirrored that held two lamps, and one had a half-full glass of water along with a dusty red cover book. Large windows, covered by black curtains were built next them that would accomplish views into artistic masterpieces in the white framework and sharp clear glass. He could only imagine these would make sunrises when sun's golden rays peak from the horizon to make to night sky fades into shades of warm citric, and the sunsets, when cooler galaxy meets the bliss of the dying sun, and any time of day or night, displayed in sheering glory. And surprisingly it was not all the room had to offer.

"Sweetie!" He heard Kellin's mellow voice rang, but from above him. He turns and softly parted his lips in a light barely audible gasp. He sees her waving her pale hand frantically from the baloney with a guard of clear glass in little blue tint with steel pipes for rails that held her wrist. He, from the ground, could identify shelves of books and gleaming wine and champagne bottles, a strange pair but fit for a man that loves the finest things. Yet, also regards two silver doors on those sides with one of them having an ebony coat hanging upon a hook that it hides.

"Are you just to stand there and wish to get in the man's bed?" She asked with a giggle at her own joke. "Come on up!"

Alex nods, ignoring her comment and still wonder if it okay to be in the millionaire's room unannounced, especially when he is not hither to invite them in. But he chose to render not a word as he finds a spiral staircase, with its rails and steps curling to the baloney above. He trots to it but executes a hesitant step with a faint tap of his sole on the stairs. His hand runs along the cool pearly rails that cause little fiction against his fingertips from being so polished. Slow steps he ensured that when he got to the level of sight of the baloney, he could not receive pale feet in black high heels here. With his two feet on the wood, he discovers the door that displayed the coat open, with an enormous mirror that he could his compact form from across the room.

However, in the corner of his peeper, he spotted that tarnished silver moreover, now the specific focus in his eyes anew. Faster thuds in his chest from slight fear of heights beat, but the calm aesthetic of tall ceilings and windows while looking down the view of the room delays it. He views the design on the ceilings closer, craving in smooth white like Greek statues and design, trapped to watch a rich man's life that starts this very bedroom. He wonders to the bookshelf with books in disarray by titles, placed in whatever. Just from their title, he could tell the man has all sorts of literature that sat their without an inch of dust to age them even more. He places his hand on his chin, letting his elbow rest on his forearm as he examines. Furthermore the bottles next to them, aging in a satisfactory way, enriching their taste behind a brimming dark glass, just ready to crack open with a pop from its cork. Then the bottles next to them, aging in a good way, enriching their taste behind a thick dark glass, just ready to crack open with a pop from its cork.

"Alex!" He turned to the sound of his name again, see Kellin walking over to him with a few pairs of slants that almost the corresponding color of black on her arm. "Some help you are, I need to see which one makes your jacket."

The Brit also forget that Kellin dragged him to persuade him to borrow some trousers, but as she places one of them on his chest to match his jacket, he worries that he could ruin a thousand-dollar garment. "Kellin, are you sure we should be doing this?"

"Don't worry, sweetie," Kellin says as she placed the rejected one on her shoulder. "Jack won't notice." She assures as she grabs another pair. "Have you met him? Or did someone drag you here?"

Alex nodded, in which Kellin frowned for an unknown reason that he did not know. "Sweetie, you need to talk more, you're quiet as a mouse."

"Yes, I have." Alex mumbles. "But I was dragged by Brendon."

"Urie?" Alex nodded. "Not surprised, a rather silly fellow, especially around drinks." she chuckles.

"Um, how do know about Jack's room?" He asks his pressing question ever since they stepped in.

She smiles, considering the side a little. "Let's just say I've done Jack a few favors,"

Alex just hummed, not pressing on this any longer. He did not know why it felt weird to think about the millionaire behind closed doors, forgetting that he could any women he desires, paying them a quite amount he offers. It was strange to him, despite that it wasn't also, because no one really talks about it. Nevertheless, everyone knows the wealthy can enjoy what they please, with an amount that can tip women like Kellin off well. Even if it is pleasure shared in the bedroom. However, he still views as abnormal, perhaps since he doesn't know Jack well enough.

"Here." Kellin broke him out of his thoughts, looking at a pair of black slacks she held up with her unoccupied hand. "Go it into the closet and try them on." He clutches them, goes to the closet, and closes the door.

He stares at himself in the mirror, sees himself standing in front of a bunch of suits of many different colors, a rainbow hanging on the racks but black dominated. In that same mirror, he could see that same stain on his trousers, still slightly damp but beginning to stiffen. He began taking his slacks with other on his shoulder, but difficult with his shoes in the way.

As he gets the other on, he hears a door open from below, causing him a little worry. He cracks the door to listen to what is happening.

"Really Kellin," He overheard a male voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Just waiting on you to catch me, honey." She says with sarcasm, making the man sighs.

"Why are you really here?" The man pressed. "Nobody is supposed to be here."

"Then why are you here?"

"To get Jack another bottle of champagne from Italy, one of his favorites." A bottle clicks against another as it taken off the shelf. "Don't dodge my question, why are you here?"

"Well, there a timid fellow getting a pair of trousers and me, being a nice person, decides to get him new ones." She pauses. "Alex, are you done yet?" He hears in which he buttons the slacks and buckling his belt. With one last look in the mirror, he finally opens the door to sees Kellin smiling at him and frowning millionaire's assistant, Rian with a glass bottle in his arms.

"Take them off," Rian mumbles, in which Kellin clicks her tongue in disgust.

"Rian, don't be a buzzkill," The lady protested. "He looks good, and I don't think Jack will mind."

"Fine," Rian muttered. "But just get out of here." His tone in distrust, but that ignored by a squeak.

"Come on Alex," Kellin grabs the Brit's hand by surprised, towing him once again. "I feel like dance tonight." He was startled by her pull and again he did not refuse for his curiosity was still wanting to be there. There was nothing on damp on his leg to invent the excuse of going to leave early, he was going to foresee what the night as planned for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry I been gone for so long again but my homework pile has grown and the pressure of what I doing with my life is getting in the way of the story. I know it a stupid excuse but I been dealing with some stuff with school and my friends. I don't know when the next update will be, I always want it to be perfect, because you guys deserve it.
> 
> The party is not over yet, there will be another part. I hope that Kellin as a women is fine, unless you guys want me to change the character. This  chapter is the longest I wrote for this story so.
> 
> Anyway, see ya later ~ Lina


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